


Saints and Sinners

by bealeciphers



Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drabble, Gift Fic, M/M, One-Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealeciphers/pseuds/bealeciphers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard Snart is a very simple man who wants one, easy thing from Barry Allen.  It's Barry, surprisingly, who takes it a step further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saints and Sinners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedHead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/gifts).



> {Inspired by Rogue Air and my friend RedHead. Who isn't curious as to what Len wrote down initially? This is inspired by the Saints and Sinners Bar Scene}

Leonard just realized the music in the background might not be best suited for the mood, and the Flash was certainly on edge which didn’t help.  But fuck, the moment the young man walked in with that delicious sweater on asking for Len’s _help_ of all things, Len really hadn’t been in control.  He wanted to see the man in action again, to see that suit up close when ‘Barry Allen’ wasn’t running to hurt him- the way the scarlet speedster’s red costume accentuated everything Len loved in a man and-

 _Distracted._  Get back to the moment, Leonard.   _Focus._

Len could _do_ focus, he had laser focus.  He’d stolen crowns from the bedrooms of kings, so to speak, he was damn well known for his focus.

But Len had a deep love for beer and pretty young men, and right now he was being tested.

The low, ambient light in the bar seemed to set off some sort of tone, the Flash looked practically obscene in that lighting.  The young man’s big brown eyes, lightly muscled body under that sweater, and the way he just looked so out of place in this dive- it was cute.  The music played softly, the bartender wiped at her spotless bar with the air of someone incredibly distracted and tired, and the lone drunk in the corner fidgeted with a newspaper he wasn’t reading.  There was one question Len desperately wanted answered, _‘How the hell did you find me?’_ he decided it could wait.

“I’m going to want something in return,” Leonard told the Flash, ‘Barry Allen’, and he loved the angry way the young man’s jaw clenched up.  As Len leaned over to write what he wanted over the napkin, he spent a moment debating if he should go for $100,000 or some priceless Greek artifact but then his subconscious said _‘Fuck it’_.

Len wasn’t a lucky man and beautiful creatures like Barry Allen didn’t offer him blank checks _ever._  

If he wanted to taste those lips then he was going to.  Doubtless, it would be something Leonard would regret in the weeks to come as he considered later all the other ways he could have cashed in this favor, but Barry Allen was looking so… demure.  He was so passively sweet, and yet there was that spark inside of the other man, that strength that made Barry grab Len’s arm and stand right next to him.  Barry threatened Leonard as if he had a chance at manipulating the master thief, and Len thought it was adorable.

He debated just saying it aloud, but Len glanced at the female bartender and the one other man in the back of the bar and decided against it.  Rejection was best dealt with in private, Len knew from experience.

Leonard picked up the pen and felt like he was writing his own death sentence, but, with practiced confidence, Len wrote down what he wanted and passed the paper over to Barry Allen.

The shock on Barry’s face was almost laughable.  The speedster’s eyes widened and mouth dropped and his face as the pinnacle expression of being ‘thrown for a loop’.

The smug grin on Len’s face that resulted from it helped him maintain his cool exterior.  No matter how much Leonard wanted this, he wasn’t going to act like he cared.   _Nope._  So he casually leaned against the bar and watched Barry read over the note again, again, and again.  

“This is some negotiation tactic,” Barry decided, a hard look in his eye.  He grabbed the note and crumbled it up in his hand.  “You go for something ridiculous and then when I ask for the next thing it sounds less crazy.”

Len liked that fierceness in him.  “Or,” Len said, tapping at the wood on the bar.  He looked down for a moment and when he looked back up his eyes were focused on Barry’s lips.  “Maybe I’m an easy sell.”

In that commanding tone the speedster had, that voice which sounded too big to come from someone so lithe, Barry Allen demanded, “What else would you want?”

Len pointed to the crumbled up note on the table.  “That,” he said, raising his eyebrow incredulously.  He wanted it so bad he could already feel the young man’s arms around him, Len could practically _taste_ him.   _Fuck,_ it had been a long time since Len had been with anyone.  He really needed to head downtown if he was going to get himself this worked up over an enemy, regardless of how pretty said ‘enemy’ was and how sweetly the enemy was asking for his assistance.

“I’m not… giving you that,” Barry Allen said.  His hands were awkwardly twisting in front of him and he stared at them instead of at Len.  The low lighting was really beautiful on him, Len noticed.

“I have two major weaknesses in this world,” Len announced, knowing none of the two people in the bar cared at all about their conversation, “a good score and cute young men.  This isn’t a trick rather it’s an indulgence in my banal desires.  It’s a bad habit I have.  I’m impulsive.” Len grinned wickedly.

“Would you rather have… an ice cream truck or something?” Barry Allen asked nervously, finally managing to meet Len’s gaze.

“No,” Len said directly, “this is what I want.” And he reached out for the crumbled up paper, smoothing it out in his hand, and setting it on the table again in front of Barry even with all the wrinkles.  

In the center of the paper, inscribed with bold, large letters, Len had written _‘A kiss’_ and underlined it twice.  

“Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed anyone before,” Len drawled, smirking at the speedster.

The blush on Barry Allen’s face was dark enough to make a lobster jealous.  “I…” His voice caught in his throat and he had to cough to speak.  “I don’t know what your angle is here.”

Leonard sighed.  He could sense the uncomfortable feeling coming off of the other man and it was painful to force.  He grabbed the note from the table and stuck it in the back of his pocket.  “Fine,” Len said, “if you would rather owe me a favor.”

“Like what?” Barry asked.  He leaned forward with curiosity.  

“The choice you have is simple,” Len said slowly, looking at Barry’s face and explaining with the same tone he’d use to tell Mick not to light his own bedroom on fire, “you either accept my _incredibly_ easy and simple way out of owing me a favor or you make the choice to live with the rest of the options I bring out to you.  I can promise you this, none of the other things I’ll want will involve so little effort and trouble on your part.”  He stared into Barry’s brown eyes, his expression serious.  “I promise you, I don’t settle for anything less than a big score.”

“And _that,”_ Barry countered, gesturing to the empty table where the note had previously been, “was your idea of a big score?”

“Pretty young thing like yourself? Sure,” Len said with a shrug.

“So… you’re serious?” Barry clarified, making a strange gesture with his hands, “You’ll agree to help me and ask for nothing else if I do this for you?”

“The offer expires, Barry Allen,” Len told him.  “Make your decision before I realize I should ask for the trident of Atlantis instead.”

“You swear,” Barry demanded, “you swear you won’t ask for _anything_ else.  And if I do this, you won’t tell anyone? Will you keep it a secret?”

“My lips are sealed,” Len said with a smirk, “or perhaps they won’t be but you understand my meaning.”

Barry swallowed, looking nervous.

Len suddenly sat up, looking at the young man in disbelief. _He’s considering it_ , Len realized, completely taken aback by the fact that this… the little note he wrote… it would work?  Was Len actually doing to be able to…

He suddenly found Barry Allen’s mouth to be the most fascinating thing in the universe.

“You,” Len said slowly, not being able to draw his gaze away, “you don’t have any girlfriend or boyfriend to make this awkward, do you? Not that it would really effect whether I change my mind about the offer.”

“No, I… why would you ask me-” Barry Allen stepped back from the table, wide eyed and confused.  “That… you… you only wrote ‘a kiss’ alright? So that’s _all._  Just a kiss.”

Len shrugged.

“Okay.” Barry Allen swallowed, nervous.  “I have less than thirty-six hours before I have to move the meta-humans so just hurry up and do it.”

Leonard moved across the table so swiftly his limbs felt like water.  He was in front of the Flash in an instant, turning Barry’s shoulder so they were facing each other and his hands grabbed the side of the speedster’s neck.  His fingers ghosted over the man’s jaw, his ears, holding him tenderly in front of him.  Even Len was surprised at how gentle he was being.

Barry’s eyes were wide, mouth slightly open, the apprehension in his face Bambi-like and Len had a moment to think it was the most beautiful thing in the world.  He was going to freeze this moment into his memory; let it fuel lonely nights and long showers for years to come.

“So…” Barry said slowly, hands reaching up to Len’s wrists as if to stop him but he just held them there to prevent the thief from going farther, “how much of a… what are we talking here?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Len promised, a genuine smile crossing his face as his thumb stroked along Barry’s cheek.

Barry tensed at the motion.  “No tongue,” he said nervously.

Len nodded.  “I can respect that,” he told him, staring at Barry’s mouth.  “Anything else?”

“You’re asking me?”

“I’m not a monster,” Len insisted, “I’m not going to do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“You offered.”

“I don’t do anything without an exchange.  My work is a business, not a show,” Len told him.  The feeling of his hands holding the speedster, without the young man pulling away, it was _fascinating._  “I don’t do anything in this world for free.”

“But this,” Barry dropped one hand from Len’s wrist to point between the two of them, “this counts as payment?  You realize what that makes me?”

“A kiss hardly makes you a sex worker,” Len chuckled.  Then, feeling a bit sad about the loss of sensation, dropped his hands to his sides.  For some reason, Len was compelled to place his palms on the sides of his jeans as if the warm feeling of Barry’s skin would be preserved.  “This offer expires,” he said again.

Barry jutted his chin forward and said in a strong voice, “Fine.  Kiss me.”

Leonard didn’t wait for Barry to change his mind.  He reached for the back of Barry’s head, fingers taking a moment to softly entangle themselves in that hair, and then pulled the speedster toward him.  It felt like a good kiss, his mouth pressed against Barry’s bottom lip and then he adjusted himself, tilting his head to the side to kiss him flush on his mouth, keeping it chaste though all he wanted to do was taste him.  

Len could settle for this.  Settle for the warm body flush against his own, Barry’s knee knocking against his, the feeling of his hands carding through Barry’s hair.  He pushed against him for a moment, wanting to go deeper, wanting the moment to be memorable.  His other hand reached up just slowly to brush the back of his hand against Barry’s sweater.

Len wasn’t going to moan, wasn’t going to betray anything, but Barry smelled amazing and was so warm under Barry’s fingers.  Len had always had poor circulation but the cold gun had given a permanent, icy chill to the bones and veins in his hands.  Barry was soft, sweet, warm, and good, and _damn_ did Len want more.

He pursed his lips against Barry once and then slipped away.  

“Alright,” Len said, and for one sweet moment he pressed his forehead against Barry’s in a sensation so tender and unfamiliar it would certainly haunt Len’s loneliest fantasies, “now I’m your man.”  He stepped back from Barry, determined to give the speedster space.

Leonard was suddenly embarrassed.  He knew the kiss was a desperate move, a stupid move, and it was so blatantly weak.  No matter how confident and strong he could remain, Barry knew what Len was thinking now.  If the Flash started looking at Leonard with _pity_ Len might actually leave Central City.

“Tell me where to go and when,” Len said, bringing back his sardonic drawl and smirk.  “You alive, Scarlet?”

Barry Allen looked pale and was biting his bottom lip as he stared at the floor.  “No one hears about this,” he said, his voice shaky and unsure, “not even your sister.”

“My sister doesn’t even know your name,” Leonard lied.  Lisa knew everything, she always knew everything, it was an agreement they made though Lisa did bring out an exception for Len and his ‘romantic’ experiences.  There was only so much a sister could handle when it came to hearing about her brother’s wretched bad luck.   _This,_ the miraculous fact that _Leonard_ kissed the _Flash,_ was not something Lisa needed to know.  

“What we just…” Barry Allen started to say and then he stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  When he opened them it was obvious he’d made some sort of choice, but Len couldn’t read any clues in the young man’s face.  “You did this because you’re attracted to me,” Barry stated.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, you’re easy on the eyes but this human smuggling habit you’ve got doesn’t give your personality any favors,” Len said calmly.  That was a truly horrible thing to say, he decided after he did, no matter how true it was.  

Barry’s forehead wrinkled in thought.  The speedster rubbed the back of his neck, thinking aloud to himself, “I have thirty-six hours…”

Leonard was lost.  “So what? Thirty-six hours I should go to STAR Labs?”

“No,” Barry said, absent minded, “we’re going to move the meta-humans as soon as possible.”

“Then _flash_ away, meta-human, I have to get my gear in order,” Len said.  He fought off the urge to make an actual ‘shooing’ motion, but when Barry Allen didn’t move it became more appealing.  Did the Flash really have to just _stand_ there? Rubbing it in?

Barry squinted, his next words pained, and he looked in Len’s eyes with something close to dread.  “You want to blow off some steam?”

Len blinked, and for the first time that night he was completely and utterly bare emotionally because his confusion was bone-deep.  He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I just…” Barry sighed and dropped his hands.  “I don’t know.  It’s been awhile.”

“Since what?”

Barry gestured between the two of them again with his finger, though that really didn’t explain enough.

Len tilted his head.  “So I can keep a secret and you want to use me to help you relax before the big showdown?”

“What?” Barry’s eyes widened as he realized what he was asking.  The speedster immediately shook his head.  “No, you’re right, no I don’t know what I was-”

“Because I’m fine with that.”

Barry stared at him, and Len met his eyes with a smug grin.  “I,” Len told him, voice low and self-assured again, “don’t kiss and tell.”  It was corny, but hell, Len was a simple man who loved stupid, corny things after all.

Barry frowned, shaking his head.  “No, wait, this is a mistake,” he started to say.

“You have to actually make the decision for it to be a mistake,” Len said fiercely.  And damn if the Flash was considering this then Leonard wasn’t letting it go without a fight.  He stepped forward into Barry’s space, just as close as they had been a moment ago, and let his hands linger along the speedster’s sides, not daring to touch him.  “You need stress relief?  I’m available.”

“This…” Barry clenched his jaw and looked to the side like he was angry with himself.  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” the speedster decided, moving Len’s hands away, “I’m just not used to having people like me, I got… that was just weird.  It was- we have meta-humans to worry about.”

Len took a gamble, per se, though it wasn’t a thing he was apt to do.  Eventually his emotions did get the best of him, though that normally involved him shooting someone else in the foot and not _this._

He curled his index finger under the Flash’s chin, lifting the man’s face up to his and his mouth hovered over Barry’s.  Len’s eyes flickered from Barry’s lips to his eyes, waiting for a signal to continue or back off.

Barry Allen’s wide brown eyes watched him, waiting.

So, for the second time today, Len thought, _‘Fuck it’_.  He slammed his mouth into Barry’s, not soft this time, kissing him as hard as he could.  He gripped Barry’s arm tight, his jaw pressing hard against Barry’s chin, and then slipped his tongue along the speedster’s lips because there weren’t any rules now, were there?

And then the speedster’s hands were reaching up to his shoulders, fingers grabbing the leather jacket tight.  Barry’s mouth opened and Len tilted his head to get a better angle.  He didn’t’ care if it was filthy, if he was pressing so hard against the other man his lips were likely to bruise, all the wanted was to taste the speedster’s teeth, his tongue, the inside of his mouth, absorb that feeling- _god_ this was not what Len had expected would happen _at all._  

Why _didn’t_ he make more rash decisions without thought to consequence?  Because this one was turning out _great._

Barry pushed away from him, taking a deep breath when he did.  His hands still held onto Len, keeping them close, and Barry’s eyes slowly slid open.  His mouth was panting, pupils dark, his expression bewildered and Leonard had the deepest desire to destroy him.  He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was there.  Barry Allen was _incredible._

“We’re… just…” the speedster seemed to have trouble speaking, Len waited on him.  Barry took a moment to steel his nerves, and then meet Len’s eyes.  The look there, strong and wanting, sent a jolt of electricity along Len’s spine.  “Hold on,” Barry ordered.

Len wasn’t sure what that meant.

In a flash, Len’s stomach felt like he’d been _punched,_ there was a loss of air, the world was gone nothing was real and something like whiplash seemed to burn against his shoulders and then with a powerful _jerk_ Len was being pushed against a dirty, alleyway wall.  He knew where he was, outside of the bar, but _how…_

The speedster had grabbed him and _run;_ that ridiculous superpower… Leonard had felt it.  Just for an instant the raw power and energy had been vicariously dumped onto him.

It left him shocked and Len allowed himself to be pushed against the wall.

“Okay,” Barry Allen was saying, and Len realized his eyes were out of focus.  He had to blink to let Barry’s face come into view. _Remind me never to do that again,_ Len thought as he suddenly felt dizzy.  He shook his head to dispel the aftershocks as Barry kept talking with no idea how much his speed had affected the thief, “So how do you usually… do this? Because I’m not that familiar.  I mean, I’m _familiar_ with men, but not like- ‘blowing off steam’.  So you… I’m not going to…”

“How about,” Len licked his lips, “we establish a safeword in case you decide to change your mind?”  Barry was pushing him into the wall, the young man’s palms on Len’s shoulders, and it was a ridiculous position considering Barry was dressed like he was going to _church_ and Len could have easily walked onto the set of _Mean Streets_.

Leonard had made a _surprisingly_ good choice when it came to his demand.  If he knew the Flash was so suggestible and desperate Leonard would have made a move a long time ago.

“Um… ‘stop’?” Barry offered, nervously.

Len shrugged.  “That works.”

This might be the pinnacle achievement of Leonard’s entire life, at least sexually, and he was going to get everything he could possibly get out of it.  “You have a condom?” Len asked, a husky tone to his voice that was definitely new.  He _needed_ this, needed to touch the young man in front of him so badly it was making him sick… or that was the residual effects of being tossed around by superspeed.

Barry flinched.  “I… I don’t want to do _that,”_ he said intensely, and he stepped away from Len.

“I wasn’t expecting you to want to go that far,” Leonard said, albeit a bit disappointed because he’d still hoped.  “If,” he drawled, “I want to put you in my mouth it’s still better to be safe.”

Barry’s eyes widened, big brown eyes dark with lust.   _“Oh,”_ he breathed, “if you… if you want-”

“I never liked the taste of latex anyway,” Len decided quickly.  He reached forward, grabbing Barry’s hips and jerking the other man toward himself even as he dropped to his knees.  Len swiftly unbuckled Barry’s pants, tugging them off just enough he could pull off the elastic of the other man’s boxers.  Flash had red underwear, _honestly._  And the moment he did Len had a sudden, biting realization that _fuck,_ this was the Flash in front of him, the Flash’s cock in front of Leonard’s mouth and Len could fucking _have_ it.

Barry was half-hard, cut, long and beautiful and Len took him slowly, gently in his hand, stroking him.  The Flash tensed at that and then relaxed.  He reached out to brace his hands on the wall.

Len looked up at him, smirking, and caught the speedster’s eye.  Barry blushed, immediately looking away.  “You have nothing to be ashamed about,” Len said, an assurance that was also a tease.

“If you keep talking I’m going to end up changing my mind,” Barry threatened, looking anywhere but at Leonard.

Len wanted this moment enough not to press anymore.  Silence would be easy enough with someone as nice as Barry Allen in front of him.  He set a slow pace on Barry’s shaft, fingers sliding over him as the other man trembled under his touch. For a moment, Len wished he could throw on a song, something to set the mood better than a dirty alleyway.  If he was going to spend the rest of his life fantasizing about the moment it should at least be _nicer,_ Barry Allen deserved that.

He shrugged the sentiment off, and then was moving forward, slipping Barry’s cock into his mouth.  Barry’s breath hitched, the other man’s hands dropped to Len’s head for a moment before returning to the wall.

Len had all of the man’s cock down his throat quickly, giving a low hum before sliding out and taking it again.  Oh, Len could do this forever, he thought, feeling the was Barry’s hips jerked hesitantly against him, the young man’s gasps and groans over his mouth as Len sucked slowly.  

He moved his head quickly, figuring the Flash wasn’t someone who took things slow, nose pressing against the short hairs at his groin, giving a long suck and pushing back. Len could taste everything, Barry Allen’s body responding, the fluids of pre-come mixing along Len’s tongue and it was great.  He was fully prepared to keep going until the speedster finished in his mouth but then the Flash was grabbing the side of his neck and pulling him off.

Len caught his breath, looking up at Barry with a question in his eyes.

“I was…” the young man mumbled, eyes lidded and face enrapt in a beautifully strong blush, “I was close.”

Len set a hand on his knee and slowly stood up, back crackling a little.  He wasn’t an old man yet, but lots of battles and a lifetime of abuse on his joints didn’t make kneeling on the ground any easier.  He straightened up with a sigh, but the Flash stepped forward and was pressed against him and the ache was worth it in a hundred ways.

Barry Allen gripped Len’s leather jacket, looking away from the entrance to the alley as a car passed by.  They both froze for a moment, the arrival of a vehicle unexpected in an area of the city as desolate as this.  The car was gone soon.  Leonard’s hand dropped to the small of Barry’s back and then the speedster was moving away just enough to press his hands against Len’s jeans.

Leonard leaned against the wall, hips thrust forward, letting the speedster unbuckle him and pull his jeans down to expose him to the air.  Barry Allen reached out with his hand, a slow, experimental brush of fingers on Len’s cock.

Len watched him silently, smug expression with pretend indifference, as Barry slowly wrapped his index, middle finger, and thumb in a circle around him, stroking down slowly.  The young man let out a breath he must have been holding.  Barry stepped closer, his other hand gripping tight on Len’s clothed thigh, and the speedster’s leg moved against the side of the wall to shield what he was doing from view of the street.  It gave Len the feeling that Barry was all around him, and he licked his lips because he could still taste the other man in his mouth.

Barry’s hands started a gentle, easy pace, something halting in his motions as the speedster had an expression on his face that was a mix of lust and disbelief.  His hand on Len’s thigh squeezed tight for one moment, and then moved to Len’s chest, lifting up his shirt and slowly sliding up the muscles along Len’s stomach.  Len knew he was no pushover, and he grinned, enjoying the intense concentration as the speedster explored him.  

He wanted to say _‘Like what you see, kid?’_ or jump forward and slam his mouth on Barry again, but Len contented himself with passively sitting back.  Len had initiated it, but this was Barry’s terms.  Somehow Len was afraid if he pressed too hard, revealed he wanted too much, it would be over.

Barry’s fingers trailed on Len’s chest, sliding under the man’s shirt, as his hand continued its slow, concentrated stroking pace.  And then the speedster was stepping forward, leaning just enough for his flush cock to be pressed alongside Len’s and he held them both in his hand.  Barry gave and experimental stroke, slow, careful, and he bit his lip in shock before his wide brown eyes connected with Len.

Len slowly reached his hand around Barry’s neck and pulled the speedster in for a kiss.  Then Barry’s hands were moving fast, their cocks slick and warm against each other as Len _relished_ the feeling of the speedster’s length against his own.  He moved fast, rough, and Barry’s mouth gasped into Len’s. It was all the invitation the thief needed to tilt his head for a better angle and thrust his tongue down the young man’s throat.  

Barry gasped, shaking and trembling as he stroked them with strong, jerking motions, and Len swallowed up every trembling breath, all of the little moans and cries the speedster was making.  He held Barry so tightly it was almost painful, as if he could somehow be strong enough to stop time itself.  

The sound of their slick bodies was the only thing in their ears. Len shuddered against Barry’s fingers, wanting more and a break at the same time. He had never gotten off so easily, but it wasn’t long before he was close. Barry was so beautiful underneath him, lips so pliant and fingers so determined to stroke Len until Len couldn’t breath. It was angry and sweet. Barry was an experience.

Len kissed him fiercely, feeling like he was just hanging on by a threat. Barry’s fingers were sure, calm, and then moving fast enough they were practically vibrating. Len moaned into Barry’s mouth, and Barry’s hand suddenly paused, Len’s hips thrusting forward with the sudden lack of sensation. And then Barry’s hand was moving again, faster and faster, coaxing both of them to release.

Barry jerked, suddenly groaning deep and heavy against Len’s mouth, and he bit down hard on Len’s bottom lip enough Len could taste something metallic.  

Barry came intensely, his skin suddenly hot and hard to touch as the speedster… was he vibrating? And Len couldn’t help but feel his own body responding to the shaking form in front of him, he was gone an instant after.  Hands tender and soft on Barry’s neck, hips thrusting forward into the other man’s hand uncontrollably.  The moment was gorgeous, complete entirely different and good for one deceiving moment in Leonard’s life.

Barry Allen pushed away first.  He swallowed loud, nervous, enough for Len to hear and then was pulling himself up.  The audible sound of the zipper brought Len back to reality, and with a shrug he did the same.  There was a mess inside of his jeans, one that was going to get sticky and annoying the moment Len had feeling back in that part of his body.

Len reached a hand up to his mouth.  Barry had bit him, definitely, that was going to leave a bruise and a nasty cut.  He couldn’t help but grin.  

“So,” the speedster said, looking away from Len with his hands crossed, “I need you at STAR Labs for… for the…”

“No one will know,” Len assured.   His eyes skimmed along Barry Allen’s body slowly, taking in the mess of the man’s hair, the hitched shoulders, and the wrinkled, thoroughly fucked look of the man’s clothes.  Barry looked that way because of _Len,_ a thought so delicious Len licked his lips again, tongue trailing along the bite mark.  “I’ll protect you from those meta-humans of yours; a deal is a deal.”

The thought of transporting other human beings into prison didn’t sit right with Len, however.  Barry Allen as a prison warden was a concept so out of place with the young man’s demure and good-hearted nature it confused him.  Len was sure he could come up with some way to make this scenario work to his own, selfish, advantage.  His head was already swimming with possibilities and his first idea was very simply, _Lisa will want to come along._

“Alright,” Barry Allen said, turning around awkwardly to walk, not run, away.  

 _“Flash,”_ Len said slowly, his voice a low drawl as his eyes traced the outline of the speedster’s body from head to toe.  Barry Allen stopped, not turning around, just waiting.  “Anytime,” Len told him.

Barry Allen locked eyes with Len for only an instant and then the man was gone, lightning and air crackled around the place the speedster had once stood.  


End file.
